” The tired woman sat still for a moment. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered. Gerald looked at it, then at her face. Once over the iron spikes, Bess exhibited no reluctance to be let down on the other side of the wall.
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